One of Those Days
by Instead of Reality
Summary: Lily is just having one of those days, where she might just end up doing something that she never, ever would have done under normal circumstances. Like kiss James Potter. One-shot fluff. Lily & James


**One of Those Days**

A Harry Potter Fanfic

**Author's Note**: Nobody can take the Elder Wand of Copyright that is clutched in J.K. Rowling's hands.

* * *

It was one of those days. The kind of day where you are so sick of being inside your own skin that you want to do anything and everything that you normally wouldn't want to do.

I was tired of being responsible. I was tired of being cheerful. I was tired of being dedicated. I was tired of being level-headed. I was tired of being the straight-laced prefect. I was tired of being Lily Evans.

Not in a permanent way. Just in a for-a-day-I'd-like-to-be-different sort of way.

As I listened to sound of quills scratching, pages turning, I fought the urge to toss my books as far away from me as I could and run out of the library.

I wanted to be free.

Which was absurd, because in no real way was I confined. Yes, I had my studies, but I loved learning new things and the classes I took were of my own choice. I was chosen as a prefect my fifth year, but I had earned the right to the badge, the duties, the privileges, the honor.

But I wanted a different skin than the one I wore. I wanted to solve equations wrong. I wanted to misspell words. I wanted to shrug off a poor grade. I wanted to talk back to a professor. I wanted to run around until my legs ached. I wanted to shout until my voice died. I wanted to rebel until there was no cause left to rebel against. I wanted to share my secrets. I wanted to trust in the universe to make my destiny. I wanted to love until my heart was broken. I wanted to not give a damn until there was damn nothing to give.

It was absurd, it was unsettling, it was awful— all these feelings coursing through me. I fought them with every sensible urge I had in my body. I knew how to do it too: how to combat the feeling coursing through your heart with the logic controlling your brain, the logic throwing up all defenses to stop the feeling from overpowering your soul. I had plenty of practice. I could do this.

I stared at the Transfiguration essay that lay before me. I had two rolls done and McGonagall wanted at least one more, though she had confided to me that in order to do the subject justice she expected five. Five rolls of parchment on the ethical reasons why turning humans, magical and Muggle, into animals is considered preferable to turning them into inanimate objects! It was due in a week. Had I been in my normal mindset, I would have made sure to finish it before patrol rounds tonight.

But I couldn't do it. The moment I took my quill off the parchment for a second, I found I couldn't bring it back. I sighed: my brain frustrated, my heart elated. I couldn't fight the feeling anymore. I would have to go find something else to do. I shoved everything into my bag; I was in such a jumble I couldn't bring myself to neatly roll my half-finished essay before packing it away.

Emmeline Vance, sitting next to me, startled. "Did you finish _already_?"

I blushed slightly, guilt coloring my face. "No," I admitted. "But I am _so_ _sick_ of it."

I must have been too forceful in my vehemence because Emmeline cocked her eyebrow at me and Marlene McKinnon looked up from her own work. My friends exchanged a glance.

"What's wrong, Lily?" asked Marlene, her look of concern diminished by the smear of ink on her forehead.

"Nothing's wrong," I snapped. "I'm just… tired."

"Another run-in with Potter?" I glared at Patrice Greengrass. She smirked at me. "We know he gets under your skin." I wasn't particularly close with Patrice, who was a fifth year Slytherin, but Slytherins and Gryffindors shared Transfiguration and Patrice was wicked with translocation. She also knew how to argue her way around the ethics that McGonagall was introducing to the course.

I rolled my eyes. "No."

"Not once? Doesn't he ask you out every day?"

I could feel the heat burning up my neck and around my ears. "I don't want to talk about that."

"Ooo," giggled Patrice, "What did he say this time?"

"I _really_ don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, come on. Everyone in the school knows he's asked you out every single day since you've stepped foot in this castle."

My blush burned hotter.

"Only directly since the end of fourth year," Marlene corrected her. "But he's come on to her since at least the first time she met him on the Hogwarts Express." I glared at the girl I considered to be my closest female friend. She gave me an apologetic look. "Sorry, Lil. But it's true and everyone already knows it. Potter's said it often enough himself."

"Don't apologize," pushed Patrice. "I wanna hear about this. Spill."

I choked on her choice of words. Marlene and Emmeline, having witnessed the event, burst into peals of laughter.

"Oh, did she spill," chortled Emmeline.

"I'll catch you up," I huffed as I slung my bag over my shoulder, not wanting to hear this story repeated again. I stormed out of the library, ignoring Madam Pince's scornful shushing.

Outside the library, I ran into someone. "Sev!" I smiled when I recognized him, even though crashing into him had caused my poorly-packed bag to explode. He stooped with me to help gather up my books. Of all the people I could have run into, Severus Snape was certainly not unwelcome. I had considered him my best friend for many years. The one regret I had about being in Gryffindor House was that he was not there as well.

"Sorry 'bout that," he grinned at me, his black hair flopping into his eyes as he handed me my Potions book.

"Don't worry," I said as we stood up, me readjusting my bag on my right shoulder. It was only then that I realized Severus wasn't alone. He was flanked by two other boys I knew only by name, face, and reputation: Mulciber and Avery. "Hello," I said, nodding in their direction.

Neither spoke to me, though Avery had the decency to incline his head in acknowledgment. Severus shrugged his shoulders, not bothered by his companions' silence.

"What're you doing?" I asked, feeling my eyes narrow involuntarily.

Mulciber and Avery exchanged looks behind Sev's back that I didn't miss. I could feel that discontent I had been experiencing roll around in my stomach, along with the dread I had developed in relation to Severus's new friends.

Severus shrugged again. "Just stuff." I didn't like the way his eyes shifted slightly.

"_Death_ _Eater_ stuff?" I asked, the words sour on my tongue. I had heard what this group of students talked about; I'd heard the whispers. They wanted to purify the wizard bloodlines. Others ignored it, but that kind of talk made my veins run ice cold. Purifying bloodlines meant making sure witches and wizards who were Muggle-born couldn't have children—and the only way to effectively be sure of that was murder.

Avery grinned while Mulciber's brown furrowed. "What do _you_ know about the Death Eaters?"

Anger coiled in my stomach. I knew what that "you" meant.

"Enough," I said tartly, staring down the hulking Slytherin boy. "Enough to know that you think you're better than everyone."

"And you don't think you're better than everyone, walking around with your nose in the air, Miss Gryffindor Prefect?" growled Mulciber.

"No, I don't," I snapped. "I know I'm better than you at Potions, but I don't consider you everyone. Your nose, you know, is also much higher off the ground than mine."

Mulciber's eyes flashed, but Avery chuckled. "Clever." Mulciber glared at him. "Well, it's true. You are quite bigger than her. Something, perhaps, _she_ should remember. "

Severus, who had shuffled uneasily from one foot to the other, finally spoke up. "She is very clever. Brightest witch of my year." He smiled at me, trying to cheer me up or flatter me – for once, I wasn't sure. "Come on," he tried to move away, to pull his new chums away from me. "I'll catch you up, Lil."

Our eyes met and I felt as if I was saying good-bye to him in a more permanent way.

Avery nodded and turned away, but Mulciber stayed put. His eyes were locked on mine. I felt a shiver go up my spine; I did not like the way he was looking at me. "You may be clever, Evans," he snarled. "But you're just a Mudblood."

There were few things that could truly make my blood boil, but being called that foul name could do it. The cold apprehension I had felt only moments ago at the people Sev was associating with turned into hot fury.

"I may be Muggle-born, but I don't pretend to be something I'm not," I spat, my temper rising with the color of my cheeks. "You call yourselves Death Eaters. Does that mean you think you will never die? That you can conquer death by chewing it up and swallowing it like you would a treacle tart? Eating death only makes it a part of you." There was a roaring in my ears. My heart was beating as if I were running a marathon. "If you were to eat death, you would have death inside of you. And your insides can be more deadly than any other outside threat. Only one of the three Peverell brothers tricked Death—and he still died. Calling yourself a Death Eater doesn't make yourself any better than anyone else, not even Muggle-borns." Words were flying out of my mouth faster than bludgers, and thoughts I had only started to form took wing and flew at Mulciber.

His fists clenched and he brought them close to his chest, as if he were about to draw back and sock me in the face.

"You little bitch," he hissed. "I ought to—"

"Mulciber." Avery put his hand on his friend's arm, and I could see his knuckles clench down. "There are people watching." His voice was slow and warning. Mulciber grumbled incomprehensibly, but after a few moments, he relaxed his stance. His eyes still were ugly with hatred. "As for you," Avery addressed me, his eyes glinting with veiled threats, "I would think carefully with whom you pick fights, _Mudblood_. Your words are interesting, but you don't know what you're talking about."

Severus, whom I'd forgotten, piped up again. "Avery, leave her be. She says things when she's angry—don't worry about her."

Avery didn't look towards him. "Lucky that Snape likes you." With that, he turned away, pulling Mulciber with him. He didn't look back and he didn't wait for Sev to follow.

We stood staring at each other, Sev and I. My heart was still thumping and my hands were still shaking from the confrontation. Severus stood there, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets, his face emotionless.

"Well?" I demanded, wanting to hear what he would say.

"I'll catch you up, all right?" He gave me a small smile, his body half-turned to follow the loathsome new friends of his.

"I'd rather discuss this now."

"I have to go."

I looked up at him. He _looked_ like the boy who had befriended me many years ago, explained the strange things that were happening to me. But he was not acting like that same boy.

"Fine," I snapped, turning on my heel and walking away. Normally I would have stared him down until he told me or he walked away, but I wanted to show him that, for once, he couldn't make it better without some effort.

"Lily! Don't be like that! Please, Lily!" I could hear him calling behind me, but I quickened my pace and refused to look back. He wasn't following me, I was sure, because his precious new friends were waiting for him. My heart ached a little bit in the way that I tried to ignore – my feelings had changed for Sev and it scared me. And what scared me more was that as my feelings were shifting, so was our friendship—and not in the right way. Savagely, trying to shake the unhappiness rolling in my stomach, I pounded the floor with my shoes.

With nowhere else to go, I headed back to the dormitory. I didn't really want to go there, knowing it would make me feel caged and more restless than I already felt. But I needed to put my bag down before I did something stupid like jump into the lake and try to talk to the giant squid—and lose all the work I'd finished.

The logical part of me rejoiced that it was still partially in control. The rebel in me wanted to toss the bag in the lake simply because I was being cautious.

The Prewitt twins gasped simultaneously when I pushed open the portrait to enter the Gryffindor common room.

"Our perfect little prefect is back from the library already?"

"And it's only eight!" Gideon clutched at his heart as Fabian proceeded to hyperventilate.

"I think the world as we know it is ending."

I told the duo to stuff it, which only encouraged them to bemoan my obvious fall from golden girl to slacker extraordinaire. I glared at them, annoyed at myself more than at the identical troublemakers. And yet, I couldn't help but giggle along. My new self laughed merrily at my old self.

"Get in your laughs now, before you lot finish school for good," I warned them.

"We've got less than a year left, Evans," Fabian reminded me. "We are _seventh_ years. We ought to teach you manners, little Madam Fifth-Year."

"I dare you," I grinned. "I've heard there is nothing you two fear more than a good Bat-Bogey hex from your older sister Molly—and I've just mastered it."

"Thank goodness I'll be out of here before you're Head Girl," sighed Gideon. "You better watch out, Fab."

"'Thank goodness _you'll_ be out of here?' I won't be here any longer than you," retorted his brother.

"There's not a bloody chance you can pass anything. You'll be here forever."

I dodged the book Fabian flung at Gideon. I went upstairs to the fifth year girls' dormitory, threw my bag across the scarlet covering of my four poster bed.

The mad thought of throwing it out the window to see if I could get it in the lake flashed across my brain. No, I told myself sternly, let's not be ridiculous. I gazed out the window across the grounds, dark just truly descending. I compromised within myself. I wouldn't throw my work out the window, but I'd sneak out to the lake—it was still breaking the rules.

I changed out of my uniform, pulling on a pair of jeans and the new green jumper sent from Mum. Knowing I would lose my nerve before long—and remembering I had patrol that night, I dashed out of the dormitory. I bounded down the stairs and out the portrait hole before anyone could stop me. I thought I heard surprised whispers as the Fat Lady swung shut behind me.

Thinking I had made my escape, I quickly made my way down the stairs, but got caught on one set that decided to move itself as myself and Remus Lupin stepped onto it from opposite ends—he going up and I going down. I smiled at Remus, who seemed surprised to see me, but was too polite to ask direct questions.

I liked Remus quite a bit. He was a very nice boy and it was clear that his studies were important to him. I had never heard him utter a mean word towards anyone or seen him prank a first-year, unlike those he tended to associate with. I was glad that of all the fifth-year Gryffindors, he was the other prefect. In a way, I wished Severus was more like Remus—he never seemed to let his mates change his behavior.

He smiled at me, but it was a weak smile – the bags under his eyes were larger and the color of his skin was off-white. He looked utterly exhausted.

"Hullo," he greeted me, bending to seat himself on the stair.

"Hullo, Remus," I replied. "How're you?"

His gaze wavered ever-so slightly. "I reckon I'm just fine."

"Are you sure?" I asked, mentally calculating in my head. I realized that it had been a full moon the night before. No wonder Remus looked as if he would drop dead on the spot. I had figured out his secret several years before and while others would have looked down their noses at him, it made me admire his courage and determination to function as normally as possible.

"I just need some sleep is all."

"Do you want me to find someone to switch with you for rounds tonight? I'm sure I can find someone." I sat down next to him, unable to stand the swaying motion of the swinging staircase. Apparently, this particular set was being finicky about where it wanted to lead to – it kept changing directions.

Remus shook his head emphatically. "No, no. I'll be fine. I'm going to nip upstairs and take a quick nap now so you won't be dragging me through the halls." I guess I still looked concerned, because he grabbed my wrist gently. "I will be okay, Lily." His eyes conveyed a small gratitude. "But thanks for worrying."

"I may just cast a full body-bind hex on you and drag you to the tower if you so much as yawn," I warned him.

"I dare you to try," he grinned wolfishly. "Say, where are _you_ going?"

I frowned, trying to best explain my temporary madness. "For a walk, I guess," I shrugged and smiled at him. "I just need to get out for a bit."

Remus gave me a look that said he was assessing what I was saying and could tell there was more to it than I had revealed.

"Are you the one that needs to stay in tonight?" he asked, keeping his voice light.

I shook my head. "No, I think I need the opposite." I didn't know how exactly to explain to this boy what I was feeling, when I couldn't explain to _myself_ what I was feeling.

Somehow, he seemed to understand what I wasn't saying. "Oh, it's one of _those _days, then." He nodded sagely.

I cocked my head to the side, curious to see what he meant. However, he looked quite serious, not as if he were mocking me. In fact, it looked like he knew exactly what I was feeling, thinking, doing. "Yeah, it is," I agreed finally, my voice trailing off lightly.

The stairs finally decided on their location and thudded against the landing with a bang. Assessing the best way to get to our individual destinations, I went up and he went down. "See you at midnight!" he called.

Checking to make sure that Filch or Mrs. Norris or Peeves wasn't about to pop up around the corner, I cast a Disillusionment Charm over myself. Not waiting for the runny egg yolk sensation to settle, I began to wind my way around the castle.

Through corridors, down stairs, and through archways, I finally found myself near the front doors. My breath caught in my throat as I faced them: did I actually want to do this? I was surprised at my enthusiastic mental response: _YES!_ I shook my head at myself, but figured, well, why fight it? I've gotten this far. The awful unsettled feeling was gone, but in its place was an incredible adrenaline rush. I slipped through the front door and out into the night.

It was a cool evening, one that made me grateful for the jumper – but it wasn't so frightfully nippy that I regretted not bringing a cloak with me. Because it was too eerie to not see myself, I shed the charm, hoping that no one would chance a look out a window. Besides, keeping the charm was just too safe.

A slight breeze rustled by and my heart suddenly lightened and I found a wild bubbling issued forth from my very toes that spilled out of my throat and pushed through my lips to meet the world as uncontrollable laughter. Arms outstretched, I gave in to the urge to run. My feet suddenly were as light as air and I flew across the grassy slopes of the Hogwarts lawn until I reached the lake.

Spinning in a circle thrice—just for the hell of it—I flopped myself down on the bank and allowed myself to admire the beauty about me. Under the rising moon, the lake looked like a perfect dark jewel, smooth and unblemished, moonlight adding a sparkle that dazzled the beholder.

A ripple appeared, as a creature troubled the water just beneath the surface. Curious to see if it was the friendly giant squid or the mermaids rumored to live in the depths, I sprung back to my feet, peering out in the darkness. Unable to see anything, I edged closer to where tiny little waves of water wiped at the shore.

"You probably ought not to jump in with your clothes on, you know."

I was so startled to hear a voice behind me, I almost tumbled head over heels into the water. Whirling around to face whoever had discovered me, I found myself staring at, not a professor, but another student. And one particular student that I was rarely fond of seeing.

Potter.

I stared at him, speechless. For the love of Merlin, why did _he _have to be out here?

"What?" he asked, grinning cheekily.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded. I was embarrassed to be caught out on the grounds by someone who had a flagrant disregard for the rules—something I had often told him off for.

"Stopping you from doing something daft like jump into the lake with your clothes on."

His tone of voice made me want to hex him, and then feed him to a dragon. Pity Hagrid didn't have one.

"I would never do something so stupid," I shot back.

"I'm glad to hear it. You'll never get the lake scum off that nice jumper. I'll hold it for you, if you'd like."

"Hold _what_?"

"Your jumper," he said helpfully. "Go on. While you plunge into the lake, I'll hold your clothes for you."

My response surprised both of us: I threw back my head and laughed. I laughed so hard that I had to sit down. When I composed myself, I turned and looked up at him. He was clearly flabbergasted. I giggled again, as I turned out to look across the lake.

"You're a git, James Potter."

"So I've been told," he replied, with a shrug of his shoulders. Casual as he acted, his hazel eyes were locked on me with a probing intensity.

"Well, it's true." I had to wipe tears from my eyes, I had laughed so hard. What exactly had been so funny, I could not be entirely sure. "You're a right bloody git."

"Why, thank you."

Puzzled, I looked up at him. He took this as a clear invitation to plant his bum down next to me. At least he was respectful this time and didn't sit real snug next to me like he'd done before, though he was close enough I could still feel the warmth of his body heat.

I continued to stare at him, one brow raised.

"What?" he asked, tucking his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. "Being called a git is practically a compliment, compared to the names you've called me before."

I shifted one shoulder up in a shrug of agreement because, well, it was true. I had called him much worse to his face. I stared back out at the lake, pretending that he was not there.

"So, what's wrong?"

"What?" I swung my head to stare at him. He was looking right at me, his gaze sharply concentrated through the lens of his glasses. I almost thought that I could detect concern in the lines of his face, but I shook that thought away. Potter, _worried_ about me? Hah.

He pressed. "Go on - what's wrong?"

"Why do you think something is wrong?"

He turned his face towards the water. "Let's see, Evans. You're outside the castle when it is strictly forbidden to be so. You're out of uniform. And you laughed when I said something that would normally make you hex me into another life. Go on, tell me I'm wrong in thinking that something is a bit off."

I couldn't disagree with him; he was right after all, curse him. It unnerved me a bit to realize how observant he was… was he naturally this perceptive or was he just entirely too attentive to me? I wasn't sure if I should be flattered or insulted.

Before I could reply, he abruptly spoke. "Does this have anything to do with Slughorn's class? If it does, I really am very sorry."

My cheeks burned hot at the memory of that dreadful class.

"It does, doesn't it?" Potter cursed under his breath. He untucked himself, and was kneeling facing me now, his hazel eyes earnest behind his spectacles. "Look, I promise I truly didn't mean—I was just trying to—"

"No." I cut him off. "It's not really about that. I mean, you were awful, horribly awful and I probably will never forgive you for it. But—" I stopped the protestations I knew would come. "—that is not what is wrong."

Curses. I just admitted that something was wrong to Potter. That was not what I had intended.

"What's bothering you, then?"

"Nothing."

"C'mon, really?" he asked.

"_No_." Instinctively, I curled my legs to my chest and hugged them.

"Look, Evans. I'm really sorry about what happened in Potions today. It's all my fault. Truly, I wish I hadn't done it."

I had never heard him apologize sincerely once for anything. The mumbled 'sorry, Professor' for tardiness or various other shenanigans was always lame and unfeeling. "Thank you for your apology."

"There. Now that _that_ is out of the way, tell me what's bothering you."

"What? No." I should know that Potter was persistent. Hadn't he plagued me consistently for the last three, four, five years in some way or another? Hadn't I been the target of his come-ons, his flirtations, his romantic attentions? What else could this be but another weapon in his arsenal in his war campaign to "get" me?

"Evans, clearly something is driving you bonkers."

"The only thing driving me bonkers right now is you."

"In a good way or a bad way?"

"Bad."

"Look," he sighed. "You've gone and admitted that something's up to me. You're not sitting in your dorm room with Marlene and Emmeline, talking to them about it. You're outside the castle grounds, breaking rules, might I add, with me. So this is big. Like really, really, really big."

"I'm handling it," I replied, but my voice was not as strong as I would've liked and my eyes were beginning to water.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am," I insisted. My gaze was locked on the moonlight sitting on the water. _I will not look at Potter_, I told myself sternly.

He sighed. "No one handles things well by shutting their gobs. We handle things _by_ talking about them, not the other way around."

Where was this coming from? Who was this insightful, perceptive, caring James Potter?

"I don't need to talk about it." I sounded like a petulant child, determined to hold on to her tantrum until the bitter end.

"Bull."

"Go on, then. Why should I talk to you?" I snapped, annoyed because I knew that I was slipping.

His calm reply took my breath away. "Because I'm here."

"Nothing's wrong, okay?" My temper rose along with the tears in my eyes. "I've just been in a funk." And like the tears that I couldn't control, I found my words were slipping too. "I feel different. I just want to do something else. Maybe I'm bored. Maybe I'm losing it. Maybe I just want to change a little bit. But mostly, I just want to be someone else."

"Why would you want to be someone else?"

"Why not?" I growled. He didn't know me. He only knew me as he saw me.

"What makes you want to be someone else?"

I lost my determination for silence to my tears and to my hurt. "Because I got a letter yesterday from—from my mum, and—and—and it was… really nice…she—," I blubbered. "She sent me this, this jumper and—and with hers, was ano—another note." I began to cry harder. "It was from Tuney—Petunia, my sister—and I thought she was s-s-s-speaking to me again. But all it said, all it said was that—t-that she still hated me and I was too much of a f-f-freak—a freak!—to be considered her sister."

"She said _what_?"

I looked at Potter for the first time. His brow was furrowed, his eyes were glinted with irritation, and his mouth was open in astonishment. His expression made my tear flow ebb. It felt good to see indignation similar to my own. "She called me a freak! A _freak_! She hates me because of this." I gestured back at the castle. "I know she was jealous when she found out, but now she hates me and wants nothing to do with me. It's not my fault. I didn't ask to have this. I mean, I love it here, but I'm tired of trying to please both worlds. I don't fit at home anymore, and I've lost my sister and best friend because of it. But here, I'm still on the outside because I'm not a stupid pure-blood." Potter watched me calmly as I vomited words at him. His steady gaze never left mine and he absorbed what I told him.

It felt so good to just say the words, to say the thoughts that had been boxed in my head for so long. It felt nice to have someone listen, too. But then, as I caught my breath, I began to worry: would he judge me? Laugh at me? Mock me? Tell everyone? Would he wish he hadn't asked me? Every day from now, would he look at me and think 'Ugh, that Evans girl is mental'? Would he regret pushing me to talk?

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't mean to rant. I just was…upset about Petunia and it kinda bottled up and then today, I don't know, I just sort of got into one of those moods where I was restless and unsettled and wanted to be different for a little. I wanted to do everything and anything un-Lily-Evans. I'm sorry I made you listen to all that." I shivered a bit, for the temperature had cooled.

"You don't ever need to apologize," he said, draping his arm around my shoulders. "And I didn't mind listening to you. It's rare that you actually talk to me, you know."

"I guess." I laughed, just to relieve my nerves. His arm was warm and felt nice.

"I don't have any sisters - or brothers either. But I know it hurts when someone you love that much turns on you, or doesn't treat you right, or tells you that they hate you. But I figure, it makes you a better and a stronger person if you just keep on loving her. Maybe just keep being nice and she'll come 'round someday."

"Thank you," I said, meaning it, wondering who it was in James' life who hated him so much and whom he still loved, regardless?

"Also, you're not a freak."

"Uh-huh."

"You're _not_. Look, you're not. You're the least freaky person I know. You're top of our class. You're bloody brilliant at Potions, even when I make you knock over things. You also aren't a snot. You care about everyone, even slimy little Slytherin first-years. You don't let anyone have a go at you without holding your own. You're pretty amazing."

I blushed hard. "Thank you, James," I whispered because there was really nothing else I could say.

He shrugged. "I haven't really done anything."

"But you have." I nudged him with my shoulder.

"Nah," he refuted again, but his grin was wider. "Thanks for actually telling me, like actually talking to me. I really thought you were just gonna hex me."

"I still could."

"But that would be a very Lily Evans thing to do."

I laughed. "True."

We were silent for a moment, staring out at the night sky. The stars were bright, their light definite against the dark velvet of the night.

"So then. How do you feel now?" James asked.

"Better," I nodded quickly.

"Feeling more like Lily Evans?"

I paused, examining my feelings. The weight of Tuney's words was a little lighter. But inside of me, there was still that churning, that yearning, that urging to do something reckless.

"Not quite."

"'Not quite'?"

"I dunno. I just still want to do something stupid and insane and out of character. It's strange. I don't know how to explain it. I just want to—"

"Do something un-Lily-Evans?"

"Exactly!" I cried unnecessarily. There was no reason to yell, but I just wanted to.

"I have an idea." James' voice came quickly, as if he was forcing himself to say the words.

"What is it?" I turned to him eagerly. If there was anyone who could think of something for me to do that was totally unpredictable, it was him. But I didn't wait for his idea. "I know! I'll jump in the lake!" I leapt to my feet and was about to kick off my shoes, when he grabbed my wrist.

"No, Lily, wait."

"Wait? Why?"

We were standing together facing each other. He loomed over me, a good head taller than me. His eyes, such an attractive mix of brown and green, blazed down at me. His free hand was in his hair, shuffling its untidiness. His other hand, warm against my skin, still held my wrist. He took a deep breath.

"You want to do something you wouldn't normally do, Evans?" His last words were so hoarse and low that I almost missed them. "Let me kiss you."

"_What?!" _I gasped, completely taken aback. My heart stopped beating. My lungs stopped expanding.

For a moment, I pictured it. His full mouth moving down towards mine, meeting, tasting, kissing. His strong, warm arms wrapping around me, holding, touching, caressing.

But no! I destroyed the image in my mind. My eyes narrowed up at him. Anger swept through me, a righteous indignation at the audacity of him! I had done something I never thought I could do—confide in James Potter. And here he was, trying to use it to his advantage! I had been utterly and totally idiotic. His face was solemn, complete seriousness in every line. Even his eyes, which were overly bright. A gauntlet of unreadable emotions ran through them.

"I can't believe you!" I snapped, twisting my arm out of his grasp. "I can't believe I was such a moron! You ass! This is all you wanted! You slimy, little, cocky, arrogant, bullying, lying, bloody—"

"Think about it, Lily." He reached across and grabbed the tops of both my arms. I felt my heart begin to race and mentally cursed myself. "Or maybe," he continued, "do the very-un-Lily-Evans thing and don't think about it."

"The very-un-Lily-Evans thing," I sneered, barely able to form words, "would certainly _not_ be to let you kiss me…" I trailed off, not sure where I was going with this.

The very-Lily-Evans thing would be to smack that smart-ass face of his and storm off. The very-Lily-Evans thing would be to tell him off for being such a deceitful, two-faced, smarmy bastard who took advantage of girls at their weakest. The very-Lily-Evans thing would be to walk away and never speak to him again.

But the very-un-Lily-Evans took over.

Our lips touched and I realized with a terrified shock what I was doing. I had done the ultimate un-Lily-Evans thing.

I had just kissed James Potter.

My eyes flew open with the realization—when did I close them?—and found that James' hazel eyes were wide with surprise…and still very, very, very close to mine.

Immediately, every single remaining atom of rebellion within me rejoiced—and then disappeared. I pulled away, staggered at myself.

"Um—" I started, but found that I had no words available for use. What could I say? What could I do?

_Run, Lily, run!_ roared my mind. Just as I turned to do just that, Potter – who appeared to be in just as much shock as me – pulled me against him and planted his mouth back on mine.

I pushed his face away, but I had allowed myself a moment too long to enjoy the taste of his lips. Still chest to chest, I could hear the pounding of his heart, and wondered at the ferociousness of it. I stared up wordlessly for a moment, still unable to find the words. His eyes were unfocused, his expression dazed, and his mouth quirked into an ear-to-ear grin.

"Now that—_that_ was a very un-Lily-Evans thing to do," he said finally, his words coming out breathlessly.

Trembling with outrage, I ripped myself out of his embrace, turned, and marched away. Who did he think he was? _Who the bloody hell did he think he was?_

"Wait!" He moved to block my path back to the castle, but I snarled and shoved at him—trying to push him away. He grabbed my upper arm, and I tried to shake him off. But the stupid git was much stronger than I was. I managed to pull him a couple of meters before he got both of his hands on my arms.

"Look, Evans, I'm sorry."

"Come off it, Potter. Let me alone," I snapped, trying to shake him off.

"No. Let me talk."

"Why should I?" I snarled, still wriggling.

"Because I'm here."

I almost choked on the hurt emotions that ripped through me. He'd used that phrase to get me, and now he was using it again!

"Lily, listen! _Please_!" He was talking fast, fighting hard to keep his grip on me.

"NO!" I ripped myself away from him finally and began running fast towards the castle gate. My heart was pounding, from the kiss, from my anger, from my hurt, from my confusion. Damn him! Damn him!

I heard a _whoosh_ and there he was, gliding alongside me on a bloody broomstick.

"At least let me get you to the tower without getting you in trouble."

"No," I panted, trying to remain dignified while running. "I will suffer the consequences of my actions."

"Now, that is a very Lily Evans thing to do," he said evenly. "And we can't have that just yet." With a grace I could not deny, he scooped me up onto the broom and away we went, upwards into that studded night sky. The wind whistled through me as James deposited me on the window ledge of the fifth year girls' dorm room.

I quickly stepped onto the rock ledge and slid into the room. I almost didn't turn back, but I felt compelled – at least I would show some dignity. I would be the better person.

He was eye level with me, bobbing out the window.

"Potter, I—"

"I meant everything I said tonight, Lily. I was trying to help, honest. Sure," his face was sheepish here, "the kiss was a bit of a stretch. But at least I asked. I almost did it without asking. So, I'm sorry for that. Mostly. I can't say I didn't like it. And I don't think you can say so without lying." He grinned rakishly and I blushed to the roots of my hair. It would be an atrocious falsehood if I admitted I hadn't enjoyed it. "But seriously, Lily, you're pretty amazing. Don't change who you are. I like you. I like the very Lily Evans girl _and _the un-Lily-Evans girl."

With those words, he zoomed off.

Almost in a trance, I crossed over to my trunk. Carefully, I dressed back in proper Hogwarts robes, preparing for my rounds. Over and over, I played the night in my head, trying to understand what on earth had occurred.

I had confided in James Potter something I had never shared with another soul and then I had kissed him. I couldn't have gotten any more un-Lily-Evans than that. And yet, that out-of-body-and-mind experience I had longed for all day hadn't happened. I couldn't laugh it away and say "That one time…" While I was searching for the opposite of myself, I had run smack into what I hadn't been even remotely looking for. And the person who had shown me that had been none other than Potter.

Or had it really been Potter? Much of our conversation had been so out of character for the two of us. Maybe it had been the un-Lily-Evans and un-James-Potter… but some of it was so…Potter, that it couldn't have been anyone else.

And the worst part was that I couldn't get the touch of his arms or the feel of his mouth or the look in his eyes out of my head, as much as I tried.

No, scratch that. The worst part was that my anger at him was slipping. I was trying to hold on to it, to keep the indignation hot and burning. This didn't seem like some of his other underhand, tricky, arrogant attempts at me. There was something so genuine in what he had said when I had spilled my guts and when he'd dropped me off. Could he have possibly meant it?

My thoughts and I made our way to the prefects' room, where Remus was waiting. He looked slightly more rested when I'd seen him last.

"How was your walk?" he asked as we started our patrol, heading first for the Great Hall.

"It was nice," I replied lamely.

"Good," he replied because I hadn't offered anything that he could comment on. We fell into companionable silence, both of us with burdens on our minds.

All I could wonder was what on earth had happened today? What was going to happen tomorrow now? What had brought on this shift in the stars?

"You were right," I spat out suddenly as we turn past the third floor corridor.

Surprised, Remus gazed at me with his tired eyes. "When?"

"Sorry," I apologized. "I know that doesn't make any sense. But I just remembered something you said earlier. It just is…so perfect."

"What's that?"

"Today." I began to explain, feeling obligated. "It has just been so strange and I've been so weird and tonight just got even odder… I've just done something I never thought I would do in a million years. It's just such an off day."

Remus smiled at me, his tired expression full of sympathy. "It's just one of those days."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think! **

**Also - I don't know the age difference between Molly Weasley (nee Prewitt) and her twin brothers, but I enjoyed writing the Prewitt twins' antics, but they were fun. Lily reminded me a lot of Hermione in writing her during that part. **

**Again, I appreciate you taking the time to read my little fic. **


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